Nonchalance
by DreamScene
Summary: The art of pretending to be indifferent, when in fact it's a hopeless case of attraction. Kind of like sour grapes that way. Karin/Hitsugaya
1. Hello, again

Pairing: Karin/Hitsugaya

Genre: Romance/Humor

A/N: From Bleach 132. Pfft, like you didn't see this coming.

-

He's taller than she remembers.

It's six years since she first met him on the side of a heavily transited street when he picked up a wayward football for her. The once random stranger had been kind enough to help her and her friends win the field from bullies, but there is hardly any danger of losing face or valuable training time at the moment.

In the telltale shinigami robes, Hitsugaya is far too easy to spot in the unforgiving summer heat.

Football practice over for the day, Karin mops the sweat from her face before it has a chance to sting her eyes. The jersey clings uncomfortably on her skin and she takes a moment to wring out the excess perspiration. The drenched fabric hikes up to her ribs, exposing a slender waist in the late afternoon sun. Bright teal eyes pretend not to notice from the vigilant spot on the roof.

He makes his way to the edge of the roof once she is out of sight.

-

Three days pass until she spots him again, jumping across rooftops like something out of an action flick she watched the night before.

A sick feeling of dread comes over her when she senses evil and like a magnet attracted to danger, he arrives on cue. A familiar dance of swordplay is performed before her—cut, thrust, block, charge, defend.

The air is suddenly much cooler, noticeably slowing the trail of sweat running down her skin until it leaves a frosty layer.

Bright auras and burning sparks flash before her dark eyes as she watches the silver blur of his movements. In the few instances that it slows down enough for her to see the action properly, he is graceful, strong and clearly has the upper hand.

He doesn't disappoint, zanpakto slicing smoothly through the target. It's over almost as soon as it begins.

And while she wasn't worried (she never worries about him, not once, _**nuh uh**_), she's relieved when it's over.

After sheathing his zanpakto, he turns around to face a very grown up Karin. She's not the same little tomboy he lay eyes on by the side of the road. Instead, this one is all legs and curves and longer hair and he's suddenly at a loss of what to say. She saves him the trouble by beating him to the punch.

"I always knew you cared," she deadpans after he's in his gigai. She tries the threatening stance Yuzu tends to use—hands behind her back and leaning slightly forward.

"Tch, whatever," he retorts. "Just doing my job."

Her eyes narrow slightly. Clearly, he's been taking tough guy lessons on nonchalance from Ichigo. She punches him lightly on the arm. Not that he can feel it or anything, but she figures it's worth a try.

"Is that what you crazy kids are calling it these days?" she jokes.

A corner of her mouth turns up.

"I told you before, I am not a kid," he seethes and she can almost feel his blood pressure rising from the way his reiatsu flares.

Her hand came down to her bent knee, laughter sputtering out at his indignation. Before he has a chance to stalk angrily away from her, she reaches for his arm, dragging him in step beside her.

"Walk me home," she half requests, half demands.

He obliges her with little grace.

She doesn't let go of his arm and he doesn't brush her off.

Karin waits at least half a block before speaking again.

"How have you been?" she asks, genuinely curious.

Vaguely recalling conversations with her brother, she'd heard Hitsugaya had been reassigned to another town. The Seireitei's reasoning was based on the vagaries of older shinigami and old souls' whims as far as she could tell.

He responds with a shrug of his shoulders. Clearly, he didn't think very much about following orders, deferring to them almost automatically.

"It's kept me busy," he drawls out.

She rolls her eyes.

"You look ready to collapse of boredom," she says. "Was it that bad?"

She imagines him in the middle of the country, someplace quiet and still except for the occasional hollow ripping through space and appearing out of thin air from who-knows-where. The occasional cow grazing on grass livens up the desolate picture her imagination conjures up.

It seems he might have spent most of his time in a gigai rather than running around in shinigami form. It explains the difference in height, although she doesn't bring it up, knowing it's a touchy subject for him.

He is a highly irritable creature in her imagination, although the version beside her isn't so bad.

They pause at an intersection and a warm summer breeze ruffles their hair in the stillness.

"Not as active as here," he finally responds. "Especially in the trouble you always seem to get into."

They pause at a busy intersection, heeding the stop sign for pedestrians. She isn't insulted by his brand of meanness and smirks when he gives her a sidelong glance.

"I win," she blurts.

He frowns at the way she beams.

"I told you so," she clarifies, poking his arm sharply with one finger. "You do care."

He remains silent, feet moving when the light changes, allowing them to go forward. She is a good three inches shorter than him, she estimates as she walks along him, bumping his shoulder every so often.

"I'll take that as a yes," she says aloud.

His attention is taken up by a distant tree at the end of a street they pass. Had it not been for the sun shining too strongly in the direction she wants to look, she might have caught the pink color on his face. She bites back a smile instead.

For handling monsters from another dimension, he is capable and focused. It's when it comes to girls (or just one in particular), that he's unsure of what to do.

"Are all mortal girls this obnoxious or do you take special lessons?" he remarks without any real malice.

"It's a gift," she says, pointing to the cheeky grin on her face. "All part of the charm."

She pulls on the sleeve of his shirt and he collides against her side. He says nothing about the brief contact and doesn't bother scolding her.

"But please, don't talk so much, it gets annoying," she waves her hand playfully, although she's dying of curiosity.

"You should know you're going the wrong way."

Karin shakes her head.

"A bit of a detour," she explains and yanks him to the right. "You're not in any rush, I hope."

Hitsugaya shrugs. She takes it as his version of saying he'll go along. He trusts her enough not to involve him in anything strange or potentially dangerous.

"So tell me, what brings you back to our humble town?"

"Orders," he replies.

Slightly alarmed by the cryptic response, she frowns.

"Are we in danger?" she presses for an answer. "Is something going to happen?"

Despite her lighthearted attitude and gentle teasing, she's quite serious as he notices the frown of concern between her brows.

"Not that I'm aware of," he answers. "Basic patrolling so far. Karakura's been attracting strong hollows for some reason."

She stops in front of a row of vending machines and pulls out a change purse from her book bag. A few coins slide into the slot and before she even bothers to ask, makes an educated guess when she hits a second button towards the top. The aluminum cans are cold in her hands as she offers him one.

It's lightly sweetened green tea.

He accepts, unsure of how she knows his preferences. But then, she was always more alert than most from what he remembers. She caught on about her brother's extracurricular duties before most people, being sensitive to reiatsu and the spiritual world.

"You're welcome," she pipes up unexpectedly and begins walking again.

She takes a four step lead before he easily catches up.

"Thanks," he says and takes a sip.

She likes sour drinks, he notes discreetly upon catching the label of pineapple juice from the corner of his eye.

She continues to chatter about her day, giving him a play by play of the last match her team had, complete with sound effects and wide arm gestures. Apparently, the current team is fearless compared to the elementary school team she played in. They are feared by other schools, more so than the boys team, she informs him.

"It might be because girls are more ruthless when it comes to competition," he commented blandly.

While he seemed bored throughout the exchange as they neared her house, she realizes he's been paying attention all along. She disguises a silly grin behind the can of juice.

It is the start of a routine of sorts between the two.


	2. Hide and seek or something

A/N: Still working on this. Hope you guys drop me a line regarding this story. I think these two deserve more love. Here's hoping you think the same.

Feedback: Si, please.

-

The shallow pan of green paint is lying beside the ladder when he reaches the window. He finds her with a roller in one hand and a small paintbrush in the other as she reaches a corner on the wall, putting the finishing touches on the daylong project.

His unexpected presence startles her enough to lose her precarious balance four feet above the wood paneled floor.

Hitsugaya catches her before she hits the newspaper covered floor, earning a stripe of green running from his hair to the back of his shirt for his trouble. The ladder clatters noisily away from them as it hits the ground.

"Thanks," she says, not minding in the slightest that his arms are under her knees and behind her lower back.

The next thing he hears are the two thuds when the brush and the roller drop from her hands. She's quite strong as her arms tighten around his shoulders and she hides her face in his neck.

"Sorry," she tells him, her voice muffled.

He frowns at her apology as she beats him to the punch once again and the scolding he had in mind floats away. He feels her inhale and he smells like freshly cut grass—clean and comforting and so achingly familiar. For a moment, it beats the stench of fresh paint.

"I ruined your shirt," she explains without moving away.

Her breath warms his skin when she speaks and it's not unpleasant. She looks up, moving away from him enough to look him in the eye.

"And your hair," she laments gently as one hand moves upward to the sticky mess of paint clashing with the light color of his soft hair.

Her father takes that moment to make his presence known.

"Karin, my sweet daughter!" Isshin says, overflowing as usual with an embarrassing amount of self confidence. "Do not fear, Daddy is here!"

He froze in a position too reminiscent of a Greek statue, much to their chagrin. Isshin blinks upon hearing silence and his head turns, taking in the sight of his darling daughter in the arms of a teenage boy.

Hitsugaya's eyebrow raises, unsure of how to even begin to broach the topic with dialogue.

Yuzu shows up during the ten seconds of apprehensive breathing and looks over her father's shoulder. She shoots Karin and Hitsugaya a giddy, toothy smile and lifts her hands to give them a thumbs-up sign.

Hitsugaya's hands are too occupied to shield his forehead with his palm at the absurdity of the situation.

"What do you think you're doing, putting your hands on my prin—"

Isshin is cut off by Karin, who abruptly stands. It leaves a lingering warmth in Hitsugaya's arms as he straightens up from his crouched position. He shakes his head once to forget the sudden absence.

"SHUT IT, OLD MAN!" her voice booms authoritatively. "Before you came barging in here, Toshiro-kun caught me when I slipped off the ladder. You have no right to be mad."

Isshin fumes like a furious child in mid-temper tantrum. She turns back to Hitsugaya, who is slightly taken aback with the way she had just addressed him and coughs awkwardly into his hand.

Her fingers close around his wrist as she leads him out into the hallway, down the stairs and stops in front of another door.

"I'll get you one of Ichigo's shirts," she tells him. "They should fit."

-

The shower washed off most of the paint, Karin informs him as she scrutinizes the back of his head.

She picks carefully at the strands where a small concentration of green clumped together, sliding off as much as possible without pulling at his scalp. Hitsugaya sits patiently on the couch between her legs as he faces the staircase. The beat up pair of sweatpants she wears is dotted with white and green along with the occasional thick lines and thin swirls of acrylic paint on the blue fabric.

"It doesn't look so bad," she says, playfully angling his head in different directions.

He swats her hands away and hears her laugh. Her arms drop, sliding forward to lock around his collar and pulls him back. There's something pressing against his shoulder blades he can't ignore.

She's soft.

Very soft.

The persistent warmth of her skin radiates through the cotton shirt she handed him as a replacement. It's terribly distracting.

His dormant imagination is on overdrive, imagining them alone in a different, much darker room as soft lips kiss the back of his neck while pulling on his haori. The unbidden image immediately degenerates into something much worse with shed clothes and harsh breathing, as he unexpectedly shivers from the contact.

"Not that I'm ungrateful for earlier, but why are you here?" she asks directly in his ear. Despite the low voice, her words echo loudly in his ears.

His mind reboots after a moment, letting the question sink in. He'd had a meeting with Rangiku along with Urahara and Yoruichi at some point in the morning about his reassignment and then—

"Urahara sent me for something of Ichigo's."

He is going to hurt Urahara for giving Matsumoto the last of the soul candy and forcing him to look for the modified soul Ichigo used. He guesses the low cut of the blonde's shirt had been the reason Urahara handed her the small package. Hormones, go figure.

Speaking of which…

Her forehead touches the nape of his neck, arms loosening gradually. For all the trouble Yuzu went to distracting her father by forcing him to taste test dinner, it's Hitsugaya who ruins the mood.

"That's why you came in through the window," she mutters. "Duh."

Her movements aren't fast but still take him by surprise when she stands and then hauls him up by the hand like an uncoordinated toddler.

"You're just in time," she informs him as he follows her up the stairs. "Nearly auctioned off his stuff."

He frowns at that last statement, confused by what she means and thinks he hears something about a 'porn stash' but dismisses it. She leads him to a hall closet, opening the door to a stack of lopsided boxes and oversized bags that spill out immediately.

"Need some help?" she offers.

He looks up at her, properly taking in the sight of paint splattered clothes, pigtails and a white bandanna covering her hair. A corner of his mouth lifts, amused by her appearance.

"Sure."

He pulls out some boxes as she drags of the large bags against the wall. A plastic lid comes off, revealing what is probably an entire drawer full of socks. Up to his elbows in hosiery, his fingertips find something not made of thick, stretchy cotton.

A thin, rectangular object emerges between his fingers. It reads _Cowgirl Sluts, Ride 'Em Hard Part IV_ and contains barely dressed girls in provocative poses on the cover. He quickly pushes it back into the depths of white and gray socks.

"Mind telling me what we're looking for?" she asks dryly after going through several bags of clothes.

For the first time ever, she sees the color rise to his cheeks. It's endearing to see the normally aloof captain so flustered. She bites down on her lip to stop a smile that threatens to spread on her face.

"Umm," he clears his throat. "Seen a stuffed animal anywhere?"

She cocks her head to the side, confused. Her brows furrow in concentration, thinking, recalling an instance in which Ichigo's ever held anything cute and fuzzy.

None come to mind.

He sees her eyes light up for a moment.

"Ichigo did give Yuzu a teddy bear once," she remarks. "Well, it was more like he orphaned it and Yuzu took it."

He looks hopeful, feeling uneasy after accidentally finding that title among Ichigo's things.

"But then, she got over that phase and I haven't seen it since," she adds.

Hitsugaya's shoulders droop, head falling forward. A shoebox falls down from the third shelf in the closet, causing several more bags to shift and slide toward the floor. It is an ominous sign.

Karin tries not to enjoy the fact that he's forced to stick around a little longer and makes a mental note to tell Yuzu to make room for one more at the dinner table.

"You know, Rukia used to stay in Ichigo's closet and now that it's vacated, you're free to take it," she offers.

He turns an indignant shade of fuschia.

"I am not short," he retorts to the cheesy smile she flashes him.

"It wasn't meant as an insult," she laughs. "Just saying, if you needed someplace to stay, I wouldn't mind having you around in my room."

He doesn't reply to the way her eyebrows waggle suggestively.

-

It's three hours into his search for an elusive stuffed animal that he finds out several things about the Kurosaki household.

One was that Isshin was unbelievably protective of his daughters, having dodged various ambushes. Karin commented that it was the usual method of greeting boys in the house.

Two was that Yuzu, despite her normally sweet and maternal disposition, could put her father back in line as good as Karin, having dragged him roughly downstairs on more than one occasion.

Three was that Ichigo had amassed a rather sizeable collection of porn in magazines and videos. He understood Karin's earlier remark about selling the stuff.

"The idiot has a hot enough girlfriend not to need any of this shit," she snapped when he found yet another title among old school work. She had snatched the thing of his hand, shoving it into a random bag as they continued the search.

Four was that Karin tended to bite her lip every so often, bringing his attention to it. He learns that aside from playing on the football team, she's also taking kendo and karate lessons. She hates shrimp, makeup and cigarettes. The blank walls of the room that had once belonged to Ichigo bored her, which prompted her to paint it before moving in.

The hallway is cluttered with opened boxes and strewn with random junk ranging from weights to books and school uniforms. The small closet is mostly emptied from their efforts as he steps in to inspect the small space.

In the top right corner, he notices the odd tan color of a round object. He steps up on one of the larger boxes, keeping his balance as his fingertips dig into the soft plushy material. It falls easily into Karin's waiting hands.

Yuzu carefully traipses into the disaster area to announce dinner is ready when she notices Karin handing the small lion to Hitsugaya.

"Bostov!" Yuzu cries happily.

Hitsugaya's palm presses against his forehead as Karin talks her sister into giving up the stuffed animal.

A rather imaginative assassination plot begins forming itself as he unwillingly listens in on the Kurosaki twins. Uruhara's head would look much nicer on a giant wooden stake as an example to anyone daring to piss him off, Hitsugaya muses vindictively.


	3. Spite

A/N: These two crack me up.

Feedback: Por favor.

-

He makes it to the football match she'd invited him. He's warned her ahead of time about not staying for the whole thing—shinigami duties and all.

The open air setting is safer than the Kurosaki household, he muses as he watches the match start from the top of the bleachers. It's easier to keep an eye on her this way than from a distant rooftop, he thinks.

Because of her high concentration of reiatsu, of course.

Yeah, that.

His posture is composed as usual, arms crossed as he leans against a post. His fingers dig into his elbows, tensing for a fight.

It has nothing to do with the uniform she's wearing, which shows off perhaps a bit more than is appropriate. Or the way some of her male classmates are following her movements from the sidelines.

The cell phone sounds off a warning, informing him of the position less than a mile away. The green marble emerges from his pocket. After a stern warning to Kon to keep himself planted on the bleacher, Hitsugaya takes off. He's already learned how Ichigo's stash had been formed and doesn't want a repeat performance.

As he takes off, he thinks it a bit strange to see Karin midfield staring up at him before leaving.

-

The pair of hollows are hardly a challenge and easily dispatched when he freezes them before swinging his sword down. The raining pieces of ice dissolve in the hot sun, soaking into the concrete.

Matsumoto makes an appearance right when he sheathes his zanpakto.

Her hair is suspiciously styled with complicated curls and bright ribbons. It would've looked nicer if the other half of her head wasn't a limp mess. Clearly, she's been spending way too much time with Orihime.

She groans, stomping her feet like a capricious child not getting her way. The grip on the handle of her sword would've broken a man's hand easily, he notes dryly.

He directs a cold glare over his shoulder, eyebrow lifting like a complete cocky bastard. Matsumoto is in no mood to hear any lectures about being on time or faster response. She punches the wall, breaking off a brick from a storefront.

"Ugh!" she rages unintelligibly and kicks a stray can that becomes permanently imbedded onto a concrete wall.

Orihime had just begun to tell her about hair products to prevent frizz and help curls keep their shape all day when she'd gotten the alarm. They'd even gone through the trouble of copying an extra cute hairstyle out of a magazine before being interrupted.

And then to find he'd already taken care of it just made her temper flare that much more.

"Why you-" she starts.

He says nothing, perfect eyebrow continuing to arch as he sticks his tongue out for a second before taking off in the opposite direction, feeling oddly light and giddy as he races back to the match in progress.

He hears a strange booming sound behind him as he takes off without looking back.

The wind is rushing through his hair, whistling in his ears as he gets to the field, just in time to see Karin score a goal in the first minutes of the second half. She's pounced on easily by her teammates in their celebratory grouping, who then get back in formation to continue playing.

She's quite graceful, he admits as he pushes Kon out when resettling back into his gigai, temporarily forgetting that his body is several rows closer to the field than where he'd left it.

The game continues on with several arguments from the opposing team with the referee about calls. A few yellow cards on a few of the players and the arguments come to a head between both teams. A girl with sandy brown hair appears to have it in for Karin, he observes.

It's two minutes into the additional play time that Karin takes a hard dive when her foot is swept out from under her, knocking her off balance.

That Kurosaki strength prevails yet again as Karin brushes herself off and gets back into formation.

She evades her opponents, making sure to open up the field to minimize any chances of singling any player out. It seems to work as they score another goal.

The ball reaches her at the midfield mark when the sandy haired girl makes her play. A sliding tackle that appeared to aim at the ball results in Karin taking a second hit on her shin.

Everyone hears the appropriate swearing that follows.

The sandy brown brat gets the red card she deserves, Hitsugaya notes as he grips the edge of his seat so hard it leaves dents. Karin's teammates pull her up, helping her get to the sideline carefully.

-

"Did you see that?" she asks him unnecessarily when she is limping at his side.

"I warned you," he answers, taking her duffel bag after she zips it close. "Girls are ruthless."

Despite feeling like absolute crap, she smiles at him. He isn't as cold as he tries to seem.

"Right," she agrees. "You're a total ladies' man, aren't you?"

He looks away but is not fast enough for her not to catch the bright color on his face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he snaps, although his comeback lacks bite.

She chuckles as she stretches her arms up and out.

-

She is dead tired and a sweaty mess when the game is over, barely walking straight. Her heavy duffel bag is hoisted over his shoulder with no problem as he offers her a shoulder to keep her steady.

"Come on," Hitsugaya half dictates, sounding appropriately annoyed.

She blinks at him in response. He slides an arm under her shoulder blades when she's too slow on the uptake. Despite his somewhat brusque manner, he is careful not to jar her as they make their way. The walk is slow as a stray wind blows past them on the sidewalk.

Rapid footsteps sound near them as they turn a corner.

"Karin-chan!" they hear a voice call out.

Stopping, Karin spins around to her friend. Hitsugaya keeps from raising an eyebrow upon seeing the boy doubled over with hands on knees as he pants from the exhaustion.

"He-hey," the brunette says, trying to catch his breath.

Karin readjusts herself so that he doesn't have to carry her weight so much.

"Hi," she smiles sweetly.

"Great game," he tells her. "Although it's too bad you got hurt."

He gestures to her leg as she attempts to stay coordinated on one foot.

"I'll be fine," she says, brushing off bits of grass.

The boy shakes his head once, twice.

"The same as always," he tells her. "Such a tough girl."

Karin laughs nervously.

"What?" she snaps amiably. "Want me to beat you at a one on one game? I can still do it, you know. Even like this."

The light blush on the boy's face is irritating.

He counts 300 seconds exact, trying to tune out portions of a conversation the boy tries to sustain with her. He gathers that it's mostly about sports and their classes together. Hitsugaya doesn't try to guess at his name, thinking it unnecessary.

"You should've taken that crazy girl during the game," the boy tells her.

She shakes her head.

"Didn't really see her coming," she answers. "She just kind of rammed into me, like a stampeding rhino."

The boy laughs.

At the sight of her lingering smile, Hitsugaya's hand suddenly drops from her shoulder to her waist, pulling her close.

"You have to get your leg looked at," Hitsugaya coldly interrupts.

Karin waves goodbye while imagining him capable of carrying her off in his arms like a newlywed couple just to spite her friend. She tries not to laugh at the thought.

-

From being over at the Kurosaki household so often (her fault for making him), he's learned a bit about healing and insists she keep her foot raised to prevent swelling.

For being hurt during the match, he is puzzled by her subtle, if cheery smile. Suspicious, he gets the feeling she's making fun of him in some way.

In retaliation, Hitsugaya slides a cold hand on her ankle, making her shriek at the contact. Her fists come in contact with his arm, attempting to bruise him. No such luck, unfortunately.

"It's not my ankle that hurts, dummy!" Karin yells and succeeds in shoving him off the couch.

He sits up and rubs the back of his neck, unsure of why he's so surprised, full well knowing how she'd react. It was kind of funny seeing the face she made, though, all wide eyed and horrified.

Very funny, in fact.

He laughs.

She likes the sound.

Instantly, he seems relaxed and is as unguarded as she's ever seen him. Despite his youthful appearance, he's always seemed so much older and this is the first time he looks his age. In human years, that is.

"If you're going to be helpful," she adds, looking down at him sprawled on the floor. Her hand reaches out for his, still icy and places it on her shin. "Then do things right."

Despite himself, he chortles the last of his outburst, but doesn't move away.

"Your face," he manages between breaths as he points a finger at her.

She falls on the couch, cradling the back of her head in her hands. The afternoon light casts strange, small shadows in the textured ceiling of his apartment.

"You're such a jackass," she retorts. "Have you no shame? I'm hurt, damn it."

He's cute when he smiles, but she doesn't dare say it aloud as she feigns being offended at his words. She feels his thumb slide over her leg as he tries to keep still without hurting her.

"You should've seen your face," he tells her, shoulders shaking.

She raises herself on her elbows, enough to get a look at him and stick her tongue out as her usual insulting gesture.

Matsumoto's angry face comes to mind from that afternoon.

He laughs again, earning a bemused and oddly delighted smile from Karin, who doesn't question but merely listens to sound of his voice.

"You've totally cracked," she muses aloud as she stares at the ceiling once more.

-

He insists on making sure she eats before going home.

The delivered food is not bad, considering how spoiled she's been by Yuzu's cooking for so long. At least his taste buds are working, she thinks as she mentally compares the time they somehow managed to choke down a meal Orihime made once. He'd been so damned reserved, downright inscrutable, making it impossible for her to know if he actually liked the stuff or was just inhumanly polite.

She likes to guess the latter had won. Especially since he was letting her take her pick of everything he'd ordered.

"You trying to fatten me up?" she asks slyly behind her chopsticks.

He chokes on a bite of rice.

And then scowls at her silly, sheepish grin.

"This is the thanks I get for-" he is interrupted when she unexpectedly leans in to shyly kiss his cheek.

He instantly reddens at the brief contact of soft lips. She pulls away, uncertain until she gets a good look at him.

There are several minutes of silence between them where neither one knows exactly what to do except to occasionally inhale and exhale.

"Don't tell me that was your first?" she teases as he frowns darkly at her.

When the color fades, he piles beef and bell peppers onto her plate until the container is empty and mutters that she's too skinny.

He feels the hit on his arm this time.


	4. Post traumatic dinner syndrome

A/N: Thanks for the feedback. I'm so glad to know this is getting attention. I love these two.

* * *

Orihime invites them to dinner at her place again. Karin doesn't have the heart to decline and somehow drags Hitsugaya along to suffer with her.

Despite being the hostess, Orihime doesn't really notice how the two are interacting as she walks in and out of the kitchen to notice the flurry of activity going on.

Matsumoto is failing at hiding a stupid grin behind her hand as she observes her captain's manners at the table. He's teaching Karin how to get rid of excess food on her plate by sliding it onto a napkin without being detected.

"It's trickier than it looks," he mumbles, loud enough for only her to hear.

Karin laughs quietly as he teaches her an especially tricky maneuver. She tries to imitate him but does it wrong, sending a large morsel splattering back onto the plate. He reaches for her hand, fingers correcting her grip.

"It's all in the wrist," he informs her as he shifts her index finger and thumb. "See?"

Matsumoto nearly combusts from the scene of absolute cuteness unfolding right in front of her.

"You're terrible," Karin chastises lightly while shaking her head, but is clearly enjoying the lesson. Regrettably, his hand leaves hers too soon.

Orihime chooses that moment to step back in. She's holding a large platter of something that no one but she and Matsumoto would find edible. Hitsugaya's elbow nudges Karin lightly.

"Who's terrible?" Orihime asks with that blinding smile as she walks in.

Matsumoto smiles wider.

Karin frowns at seeing how he's piling up food on her plate. An impromptu idea appears.

"Toshiro-kun," Karin answers straight faced. "Because he says he's starving and would like another plate of wasabi fettuccine."

She receives a hard glare for speaking up.

"No, thanks," he says, mustering as much politeness in a split second. "I'm quite full."

His eyes are telepathically communicating to Karin how he'd like to drown her in the plate of Orihime's latest culinary horror.

"Aw, don't be shy, Toshiro-kun," Karin clucks affectionately. She gives him a sidelong glance as she tells Orihime. "He said it was really good."

A sweet smile appears on Karin's face as she chats with Orihime about the ingredients. A shudder of disgust slides down their spines as they learn what exactly made up their dinner. She can't really help reaching out for his arm to keep from keeling over and steadies herself. The mix of stuff is revolting as she considers what her brother's girlfriend can dream up in the kitchen.

The sweet smile on Orihime's face is misleading, Kain thinks, even though she really likes her. It's just the food thing that bothers her. Because really—what kind of a sick bastard thinks to make Italian food with sriracha sauce, edamame and sashimi on a plate of ramen noodles?

"I was just telling him how fat he was gonna get for eating so much," Karin goes on, shrugging casually and discreetly pokes Hitsugaya on his side, inciting his anger further.

As Orihime heads back to the kitchen, Karin yelps when she topples to the floor after Hitsugaya slides the cushion out from underneath her. Matsumoto is on the verge of having a seizure as she tries to stifle her laughter. This is the first time she's seen the young captain act so immature and honestly, it's about damn time.

"Rangiku-san," Orihime says when she notices her. "Are you OK?"

The second helping is placed in front of Hitsugaya as she concerns herself with the blonde.

Matsumoto is crying silently and wipes the corner of her eyes. She really wants to high-five Karin for her efforts on making her captain act like a kid. Still, even in the middle of a laugh attack, she's wise enough not to piss off her superior.

"I'm fine," she tells Orihime. "Just that the food was a bit spicy."

"I'm so sorry about that," Orihime apologizes, to which Matsumoto shakes her head.

Karin and Hitsugaya are too busy bickering quietly to notice the exchange. Matsumoto is determined to say mute and takes a large gulp of her glass, hoping it will make her stop cracking up. After all, she doesn't want to hurt Orihime's feelings. Or earn an unwanted demotion from her captain.

But between Karin pinching his cheeks and Hitsugaya making snow materialize above their heads to stuff inside the back of Karin's shirt, those two were breaking her resolve.

"Karin-chan really loved the dessert," Hitsugaya yells cheerfully at Orihime as he slams a palm on the tabletop. "She said she'd like some more!"

"Shut up," Karin screeches as quietly as possible but barely refrains from knocking his teeth out.

Orihime looks far too pleased for Karin to really say anything to the contrary.

"Really?" she asks.

"Well, I, uh," Karin stammers incoherently.

For no real reason, other than to perhaps get another rise out of her, Hitsugaya's fingers glide along her forearm. It has the opposite reaction, causing her to blush from the attention.

Orihime misinterprets the look on Karin's face and clasps her hands in delight.

"Well, in that case, please have some more," she says and ducks back to the refrigerator.

Hitsugaya loves how Karin looks absolutely panicked and cracks a smile at her discomfort.

"You bastard!" she sneers in a low voice and takes aim to abuse his shoulder multiple times.

Orihime takes less than five minutes to prepare the thing and doesn't leave Karin enough time to work off her frustration.

Karin's eyes widen at seeing the plate of barbecue cheesecake with horseradish, red pepper flakes, strawberry sauce and shaved parmesan cheese. Orihime tops it off with a piece of candied octopus tentacle and a bright red cherry.

Ick.

Sick.

"Eat it," Hitsugaya mouths, clapping her on the back.

She somehow keeps from choking him.

The boiling point of this rivalry is reached when Hitsugaya freezes the contents of Karin's glass as she tries to get a drink. As the glass is tipped back, the block of ice hits her face. When the numbness subsides and some feeling returns to her lips, she retaliates.

While Orihime is shuffling around in the kitchen with the remaining dishes, Karin threatens him with a dark, dangerous look he recognizes all too well. Before he can clamp her mouth shut, she dodges, keeping his arms away.

"Toshiro-kun's been too polite to say it, but he thought his dessert portion was too small and wanted some more," she tells Orihime before they crash downward.

"You're evil," he whispers fervently and his eyes flare.

They both scramble to sit up when Orihime turns around. Karin clears her throat, then flashes him her tongue like a triumphant four-year-old.

At that moment, Matsumoto learns where he picked up the habit.

Karin's eyes brighten momentarily before carefully pushing her plate aside and leaning over the table.

"He has such a sweet tooth, I'm sure he'll burn up the calories in no time, seeing as he's working out from morning training, daily patrolling and then slaying hollows," she says conversationally, ticking off three of her fingers.

Orihime's face lights up, delighted by the response her efforts are getting when she retreats to the kitchen once more.

The color drains from Hitsugaya's face before he's glaring daggers at her amid the clatter of dishes and cheerful humming. Matsumoto is nearly choking in her corner of the table as Hitsugaya attempts to murder Karin with Orihime's food.

"It's so nice how you both know what each other likes," Orihimes says over her shoulder.

They tussle again as he tries to force feed Karin a giant spoonful. Orihime's light laughter goes ignored. Matsumoto gazes on dreamily, deciding they would look good together if they weren't so stubborn to realize it.

"If I didn't know any better, it would almost seem like you two are dating," Orihime jokes.

Matsumoto's drink is spit back out into her glass as she tries not to make eye contact with anyone. No one notices.

_Amen to that!_ Matsumoto thinks and sputters some more.

Unbeknownst to her, Orihime steps in just in time to prevent a full blown food fight.

"We are **_not_**!" they both yell, completely indignant and are suddenly red faced by the thought as they turn away from one another.

Orihime giggles. So does Matsumoto.

A dinner sized plate emerges in front of Hitsugaya, completely covered with condiments. His eyes widen, overwhelmed by the amount. Karin merely smirks as she spoons away the remains of her plate into her napkin.

With that image, Matsumoto excuses herself and laughs her ass off outside.

They're perfect for each other, she concludes.

* * *

They practically run out of Orihime's apartment after saying good night.

"Dude," Karin starts, picking an octopus tentacle out of her hair. She aims carelessly at the nearest trash can. It ricochets off the rim of the opening and lands on the sidewalk instead.

"Worst meal ever," she proclaims. "I mean, I love Orihime and all, but she's insane. I don't know how Ichigo's gonna survive her cooking."

A wandering stray dog sniffs the discarded piece and immediately runs away in the opposite direction.

Karin and Hitsugaya stare at the retreating dog and then each other. And then break into spontaneous laughter.

"Agreed," he tells her.

She is clutching the sleeve of his shirt to keep herself upright as she doubles over with tears in her eyes. Despite their earlier fight, there are no hard feelings.

"Wanna go for ice cream?" he suddenly asks, hands jammed into his pockets.

She looks up at him, cheeks warmed up to a bright pink.

"I thought you'd never ask," she replies, grinning and loops her arm around his, even though he didn't offer it.

He doesn't seem to mind since he doesn't mention it.

They walk forward as occasional laughter erupts while reminiscing over dinner.

* * *

Ice cream and antacids turn out to be the perfect remedies for post-dinner trauma.

Karin learns that he got all his meal-maneuvering skills from having been forced to sit through long, boring luncheons in the Sereitei for incoming cadets. Apparently, sometimes the cooks made all the wrong things—fried meat, boiled vegetables and watery rice, among other things had somehow made it on the menu.

"It was pretty gross," he says, shrugging. "Although, those don't seem so bad now."

She imagines him as a child (and it's not a big stretch), sneaking stuff around the table without getting caught.

"Must have been a lot of practice," she thinks aloud as she licks the edge of her waffle cone to catch nearly melted ice cream before it drips down her hand.

"Ugh, the main course was always the worst," he recalls. "Either it was nearly burnt or mostly raw."

"Eww," she states and scrunches up her nose.

"Exactly," he concurs, pointing his plastic spoon at her.

She bumps playfully into his shoulder with her own and takes a few wayward steps from him before setting herself on a straight trajectory again, perhaps a few inches closer to him this time around.

"Did the quality change after you became captain?" she asks.

He looks up at a tree branch above them thoughtfully as he recalls the contents of plates he's emptied.

"Mostly," he replies. "Although then there have been times when Matsumoto has gotten me lunch or dinner and it's no good."

"Oh really?" she prods before biting off a crunchy piece of her cone. "Like what?"

"Stinky tofu with peanut butter, red bean paste and cheese dumplings, boiled corn kernels with melted fudge," he rattles.

She's tempted to throw away her dessert into the nearest trash can.

"Ok, no more," she interrupts and he watches her visibly shiver. "That's so nasty it should be made illegal."

He hears her mutter something about not giving Orihime ideas while he thinks it might be a bit late for that, since Matsumoto is staying with the girl. Must be something in the genes, he supposes.

"Why is it that the hot chicks have weird taste buds?" Karin wonders aloud. "I mean, except for like Rukia, they all have really bad taste in food."

"That's not true," he says without thinking. "There's y-you," he awkwardly covers up his blunder with some well timed coughing and rubs the back of his neck. "Ugh, you know, um, people. Yeah."

It's the first time she's heard him stutter and give her a compliment, backhanded or not. This has got to be some sort of record, she considers as she bites her lip and punches him lightly on the arm. Karin thinks of a way to defuse the tension.

Lost in thought (and perhaps a regret or two), he takes a few steps ahead of her before realizing she's purposefully stayed behind.

He turns around.

"Stay there," she instructs him.

Surprisingly, he listens (but frowns as usual) and doesn't move. The next thing he hears are quickened footsteps and them a "mph" as she collides into his back with her arms around his shoulders and legs that lock on either side of his waist.

"Piggy back ride!" she proclaims.

He finds he doesn't mind her warm breath on his neck.

"So tell me," she starts conversationally. "If you were to die tomorrow, what would be your last meal?"

"I don't think that applies to me," he tells her.

This close, she can breathe him in—that gentle, clean smell she recognizes so well.

"It's a hypothetical question, silly," she retorts and tightens her grip on his shirt. "So answer."

He sighs in a way that suggests long suffering.

She nuzzles his neck just barely and feels him stiffen at the gentle motion.

"Pretty please?" she breathes in his ear, warm and insistent.

His fingers dig slightly into the underside of her knees before shaking off another image induced by those stupid hormones.

Another sigh emerges, more forceful this time before he responds.

"What was that?" she asks.

"Chicken curry," he repeats.

"I didn't know you like it spicy," she replies playfully.

He purposefully trips over the exposed root of a tree and immediately regrets it (to a certain extent, that is). Her initial instinct is to shriek (serves her right). But then, her arms tighten a bit more and he can feel her a little too well against his shoulder blades, distressing him so.

Despite that, the nervous, surprised laughter against his skin warms him up ever so slightly and is not so bad, he decides.


	5. Tardiness and such

A/N: Took me a while since I've been working on other stories at the same time. I'm keeping at it, though.

Feedback: Let me know what you think.

* * *

Karakura at sunset is bathed in bright shades of fading oranges, pinks and brilliant reds.

The lovely view from the vantage point on the roof of a bakery would have been appreciated by anyone other than a soul reaper irritated beyond belief for waiting far too long.

The dismissal bell had sounded half an hour earlier.

She is late.

Again.

Hitsugaya huffs out a breath of annoyance seconds before he is alerted to a grouping of hollows in the area. The phone is shoved into his pocket with more force than necessary as he grips his zanpakto, feeling very eager to fight and wondering if this is how Zakari Kenpachi always feels before hacking away mindlessly into something.

His mouth curves upward in a way that is just a bit too fierce when he arrives, alerting his quarry that something might be wrong. They look at each other momentarily before scrambling to get the hell away. And run! Run for their lives!

The spirit of a child is left behind in relative safety as the pursuit continues.

"It's Zakari's spawn!" a hollow yells as it gets moving on spidery legs.

"No way, I thought that dude's name was Ikkaku," another comments as it slithers.

"I thought that was just a rumor," the third one in the group replies.

"Isn't it supposed to be a pink-haired runt?" the second one asks.

At the sound of a sword slicing through the air, the three are more determined to haul ass. The question doesn't matter so much after a few nanoseconds to evade another damned swing aimed at them.

"Hurry the hell up!" the first yells again. "He's gaining on us."

Hitsugaya's jaw clenches, ready to rip them to shreds. And really? The rumors circulating in Hueco Mundo are just plain ridiculous.

Stupid.

Untimely.

Inconsiderate.

Like someone else he knows.

He catches up to the trio with no real effort and unleashes his zanpakto to work off some anger that would make the 11th division captain proud. Slash, thrust, charge—the same moves are performed in a different order as he goes.

Despite being proud of having an actual disciplined fighting style, it doesn't really matter at the moment as all he cares about is complete destruction. The sounds of cracked cement, snapped wooden beams, broken windows and twisted metal vaguely register through him.

In the end, his rage isn't calmed all that much, however satisfying the ensuing screams.

It's over far too soon for him.

When he reaches the kid, who is unharmed, she is staring at him incredulously.

"Geez, mister," the girl says, wide-eyed. "Don't you think that was a bit much?"

He frowns, puzzled at being addressed as an adult for the first time. He's been called a lot of things (short stuff, pre-pubescent, tiny Tim, rugrat) usually by strangers or hollows. This change takes him by surprise.

"What? No way," he denies.

"Way," she replies, shaking her head as if to shame him into guilt.

Then she points in the direction from where he just arrived. It prompts him to turn around, which he immediately regrets.

It looks like the work of a bulldozer driven by a blind madman in a nuclear war zone. He grimaces momentarily. It's coming out of his pay. Damn it.

"Maybe," he mutters.

A quiet sigh escapes him.

"Wanna talk about it?" the girl offers.

Hitsugaya's fingers comb through his hair in frustration. He's in between wracking his brain to think of an exact point to start and exasperated that it's come to this somehow.

After launching into a tirade of a silly girl, her insanely strong brother, the scarily sweet sister and goofy father, he finds that he's exhausted.

The girl soul nods sagely, taking it all in. She paces three seven steps exactly in front of him before spinning on her heel and doing it again. Hitsugaya's zanpakto edges along the cracks of the sidewalk, digging out a stray weed and spilling loosened dirt on the cement.

He doesn't really notice when she stops.

"You should say something," she says suddenly.

"Huh?" is his intelligent rebuttal.

"Tell her," she repeats slowly. "Clearly, she means something to you, dummy."

For the first time, he is confused.

"What?"

When she keeps going on about being communicative and how important it is to be honest in a relationship, he's got Hyorinmaru at the ready for a konso while his other hand is mocking her by opening and closing like an imaginary puppet.

He's not sure if she notices, bu then she rests her hands on her knees to get at eye level with him.

"Tell her you like her," she explains again, more slowly this time and knocks a little fist on his forehead with each word, as if drilling it into the door to his brain. Were all boys are so dense?

Predictably, he scowls. Deny, deny.

"Time to go," he announces suddenly to make her shut up. Once and for all. "Good luck."

She winks at him. He refrains from scowling, just barely.

"You, too."

Girls. Go figure.

* * *

As Hitsugaya gets back into his gigai, he finds a familiar sight.

Karin is standing with a group of her classmates nearby. That boy from the match is taking up her attention again. Still, it doesn't deter her from ending the conversation as she seeks him out instead.

"Hi," she greets him with a sunny smile when she walks over to him.

He acknowledges her with a side glare that she's grown accustomed to seeing.

"Sorry if I made you wait," she says softly, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "Walk me home?"

"I was not waiting," he clarifies. "There was a hollow nearby."

Despite the small smile that forms on her mouth, she doesn't argue and instead nudges his shoulder with hers before taking a few steps forward.

Somewhat calmer, he takes the familiar spot beside her as they make their way forward but not before sending a silent death threat with an icy stare.

The boy hides behind a small group of remaining classmates. Inwardly, Hitsugaya smiles.

While he looks at her (discreetly, of course) he considers the advice the young girl's soul offered him before he performed a konso.

As they walk, Karin tells him all about her karate lesson and effectively interrupts whatever ill-conceived plan he has in mind, which kind of works out because he's not exactly sure what to say anyway.

Instead, he listens to a story that involved her body slamming the instructor over her shoulder.

"And it was awesome!" she proclaims, raising her arms triumphantly.

It reminds him of Isshin as he stares at her, suddenly horrified. They are related after all, he realizes too late. Then it dawns on him how utterly doomed he is.

She's got that bright, silly grin on her face as she talks, making it seem not so bad.

Ridiculous girl.

* * *

The rest of the week goes pretty much the same, with him waiting (and getting incrementally more irritated) in between patrolling duties and sending regular reports to the Sereitei.

Despite it all, his anger dissipates somewhat upon seeing Karin.

On a Thursday, after he finishes off a hollow near the Karakura household, Yuzu bumps into him while holding a stack of notebooks.

"Hi," she greets him.

He waves with one hand before she asks him if he'd mind walking with her to school.

"Karin is staying a bit late to help organize the class booth for the school festival," Yuzu explains.

Hitsugaya remains unreadable, keeping quiet as he listens to her cheerful chatter. He knows that while the twins go to the same school, they are in separate classes.

"I don't know what her class is planning," she tells him. "Last year, they put up a yakitori shop and made a lot of money."

The story is nothing new since he's heard it before on one of their afternoon walks. They'd raked in the most profits, beating out the other classes in their year and gone to a beach resort for their class trip.

"You know, she refused to wear the waitress outfit," Yuzu giggles. "It was such a shame since she looked so cute in it."

He looks away at one of the last leaves on a branch, trying not to visualize the image Yuzu is describing in detail—it's mostly ruffles, ribbons and bows. It distinctly clashes with the badass (complete tomboy) image she's cultivated. As they near the gates, she considerably slows her steps.

"Um," she suddenly stops. "Would you mind terribly dropping this off to Karin?"

He frowns, more puzzled than annoyed at the way she is digging one foot into the ground and isn't quite meeting his eye. She appears more preoccupied with a corner window she keeps eyeing nervously.

"You see, Ichigo is coming home in a few days and I have a few things I need to do before he gets here," she explains, suddenly bashful.

He takes the notebooks tied securely in white string as she hands it over.

"Sure," he replies, uncertain.

She babbles on about a list of things she needs to do as he politely tunes out the list of ingredients she is calling out.

Yuzu has taken several steps in the opposite direction just as he turns to make his way through the gates. Something suddenly occurs to her. He hears footsteps echoing off the concrete that stop a short distance from him.

So he dutifully makes his way toward the school until a hasty, "Wait!" stops him.

A hand grips his sleeve, making him turn around.

Yuzu is panting.

"Just a thought," she starts.

He frowns and automatically takes in the surroundings, just in case of an emergency. She must have run back so suddenly for something, after all.

"If you go the candy and flowers route, just know that she hates roses and cherry cordials," she informs him, jerking her head towards the school.

Before he can open his mouth to ask what the hell she means by that, she beats him to it by responding. Must be a Kurosaki thing, he muses.

"FYI, you know," she explains and winks conspiratorially.

"Ri-ight," he drawls, doubtful as his eyes narrow slightly.

He kind of wants a reason to draw his sword and kill something, like now. And immediately.

* * *

The walk through the building brings back some memories from his stint as a student several years ago. There'd been training, the inevitable fighting, the mostly calm days spent in near boredom. He'd met Karin during that time—small and scrappy, but determined. More so than her friends, all boys. And then it hits him, full force.

Boys.

Festival.

Costume.

He pauses on the fourth step in the staircase and considers the possibility of Yuzu's overly descriptive recollection as something that would likely happen.

Matsumoto's voice came ringing back from a hot afternoon the last time he was in town.

_"You're interested in a girl from the world of the living?" she had asked, partly joking, but mostly serious at his expression when he gazed at the little brunette bossing around a group of boys. "I understand, sir. A man gets lonely sometimes."_

"Ugh," he scowls at the memory, irritated by the implication. He remembers her mentioning something to the same effect after they'd had dinner with Orihime.

He makes it up the stairs in double time.

* * *

Karin is rather bored at the endless exchange of idle chatter. The last 45 minutes have been nothing but bouncing ideas around.

She huffs quietly, writing down the latest theme her classmates have dreamed up. It's been the same thing all week, she thinks and is dying to have them pick something so that she can leave. There's a cute boy involved, after all. A strange one, who goes around keeping the town safe by killing invisible monsters, sending souls to the afterlife (or whatever) and isn't really alive, but then, those are just technicalities.

Because he listens to what she has to say and even though extracting a conversation has been like pulling teeth in the past, it's gotten easier over time. He's actually volunteering information now. If that's not progress, she doesn't know what is.

"Tiki bar," someone shouts. "That way the girls can put on grass skirts!"

The aftermath of the impact of a fist meeting an arm is heard in a succint "Ow."

"Egyptian pharaohs," another tells her.

"Um, what about casino royale? We can get a roulette and cards and everything."

Her chin rests lopsidedly on one hand as she continues scribbling halfheartedly despite all the animated chatter. Karate practice earlier in the day wiped out most of her energy. Her stomach growls, making her regret running out of the house so early without bringing her lunch.

Her daydreams of escape and a proper meal are interrupted by the sound of a boy's voice.

When she looks up, it's her friend Kazu who is blushing darkly. She remembers the football match and Hitsugaya's cold manner towards him. Oh, if only Hitsugaya knew.

"I know!" he offers. "How about a kissing booth!"

She smirks, thinking it funny how Kazu is trying to get Yuzu's attention.

Boys. Go figure.

The door to the class opens then, revealing a very bewildered Hitsugaya. Karin's chin slides off her hand, making her stumble forward a little.

"Good idea," someone calls out.

"Yeah."

"We'll keep the streak alive and beat the other classes again this year." A clap of high-fives sounded from somewhere in the back of the room.

"Best idea ever," someone else proclaims.

"Uhh," Karin tries to string a coherent explanation as she stares into blue-green eyes. Nothing comes to mind amid the rising volume of collective conversations.

"Hi," she finally manages with a small smile.


End file.
